wn bog, with here and there a
pool of water in it which shone bright in the colours of the setting
sun. It was gay, too, with patches of yellow buttercups, of primroses,
and golden whins. The whins had been in bloom since Easter, for Larry
and Eileen had gathered the yellow flowers to dye their Easter eggs. On
the other side of the road the land rose a little, and was so covered
with stones that it seemed as if there were no earth left for things to
grow in. Yet the mountain fern took root there and made the rocks gay
with its green fronds.

The sun was so low that their shadows stretched far across the bogland
beside them as the Twins trudged along.

Three black ravens were flying overhead, and a lark was singing its
evening song.

Eileen looked up in the sky. "There's the ghost of a moon up there!
Look, Larry," she said.

Larry looked up. There floating high above them, was a pale, pale moon,
almost the colour of the sky itself. "It looks queer and lonesome up
there," he said, "and there's no luck at all in three ravens flying.
They'll be putting a grudge on somebody's cow, maybe. I wonder where
the little lark does be hiding herself."

Larry was still looking up in the sky for the little lark, when Eileen
suddenly seized his arm. "Whist, Larry," she whispered. "Look before
you on the road!"

Larry stopped stock-still and looked. A man was coming toward them.
The man was still a long way off, but they could see that he carried
something on his back. And beside the road, not so far away from where
the Twins stood, there was a camp, like a gypsy camp.

"'Tis the Tinkers!" whispered Larry. He took Eileen's hand and pulled
her with him behind a heap of stones by the road. Then they crept along
very quietly and climbed over the wall into a field.

From behind the wall they could peep between the stones at the Tinkers'
Camp without being seen.

The Twins were afraid of Tinkers. Everybody is in Ireland, because the
Tinkers wander around over the country without having any homes
anywhere.

They go from house to house in all the villages mending the pots and
pans, and often they steal whatever they can lay their hands on.

At night they sleep on the ground with only straw for a bed, and they
cook in a kettle over a camp-fire.

The Twins were so badly scared that their teeth chattered.

Eileen was the first to say anything.

"However will we g-g-g-get home at all?" she whispered. "They've a dog